"And then, just as the sun was setting, we tracked the band
into the gully behind the old mill," Rafael said. His
audience gasped appreciatively. Most of them, anyway.

Don Alejandro sighed and tried not to show too much
exasperation as he listened to Fernando's son recount his
latest encounter with the local insurgents. That the boy
showed courage there could be no doubt, nor that he'd
earned his high position in the local militia despite his
relative youth.

Certainly the boy had a lot of promise and Fernando had
every right to be proud. Rafael's recent capture of a
local band of thieves was just the sort of story fathers
liked to brag about.

Why then was he so unimpressed? Perhaps it was just that
after seven years of Zorro, tales like Rafael's seemed
common place. After all, how impressive was it to round up
four thieves with a band of armed men at your back compared
with single-handedly facing down the alcalde and his
soldiers armed with no more than a sword and your wits?

But Alejandro had the uncomfortable thought that it was
more than that. Rafael spoke of nothing but military
matters. When he wasn't talking about bandits, it was
training exercises or the new uniforms or supplies.
Alejandro had never thought he'd be bored at tales of
action, and here he was, barely able to keep from
fidgeting.

How Diego, who had never been known to even mention new
uniforms in his life, would laugh to see his father thus.

Alejandro may have left Los Angeles as much to escape the
increasingly painful bitterness that enveloped much of his
relations with his son of late as desire to see his friend,
but at that moment, he would have given much for Diego's
calming presence. Diego, at least, had the often
overlooked talent for steering a conversation to topics
that most engaged his companions-and he could keep up his
end of it for hours whether his audience preferred
discussing the paintings of Da Vinci or the Roman Senate.
Now, listening to Rafael speak, Alejandro was forced to
wonder if Diego ever found his father so boorish. It was a
sobering thought, if not without its own biting irony.

"Patience, Don Alejandro," a light baritone said lowly near
his ear.

Alejandro startled and looked up to see that Don Rodrigo
Hinojosa standing just beside him. Alejandro recovered
himself and bowed slightly as a man of Hinojosa's station
required. An enigmatic man, Hinojosa. A former magistrate
of Mexico City, who had, if rumors could be believed, left
the position at the height of his influence because he felt
government must change hands regularly if it is to remain
committed to the people it governs. A startling, even
vaguely heretical sentiment if true, though after his
experiences in Los Angeles not one with which Alejandro
could argue.

Hinojosa smiled slightly, the expression holding a more
accessible charm than one would expect in a face of such
dignity. "Young Rafael's bravado may not make for the most
fascinating subject, but he has earned his moment in the
sun. And Don Fernando is justifiably proud." He turned
back to Alejandro. The smile deepened, but the searching
look only intensified. "We cannot all of us be so
fortunate in our sons as you, Don Alejandro."

"You know Diego?" Alejandro startled again, too surprised
to wonder too deeply if the man was being ironic. "And how
did you know that I was . . . "

"That you were thinking of him?" Hinojosa chuckled quietly
so as not to draw the rest of the room's attention.
"Fathers are always supposed to be thinking of their sons,
are we not?"

"How is it that you know my Diego?" Alejandro asked again,
attempting to recover his equilibrium.

Now it was Hinojosa's turn to look surprised. "I have
known Diego for many years. I met him on a trip to Spain
when he was studying with Sir Edward. We have been
exchanging letters ever since."

"Letters?" Alejandro asked faintly. He could not imagine
what his easily distracted if admittedly intelligent son
could have to say to a man of Hinojosa's position and
personality.

Hinojosa didn't notice Alejandro's surprise, or at least
was politic enough to pretend as much. "Yes, we are
frequent correspondents, though not as frequent as I would
like. He has one of the most refreshingly brilliant minds
I have ever encountered, if you will forgive such
enthusiasm." Hinojosa's face lit with what seemed sincere
passion as he spoke. "He gave me some well taken
suggestions when I still served as magistrate."

Suggestions to a magistrate? From _Diego_? Alejandro was
beginning to wonder if they were discussing the same man.

Hinojosa paused and bowed slightly, disorienting Alejandro
even further.

"You will have to forgive a slight deception on my part,"
Hinojosa said. "When I heard you would be visiting Don
Fernando, I purposefully had myself invited to the dinner
party this evening so that I might meet the man of whom
Diego speaks so highly in all of his letters."

"I thank you, sir." Alejandro flushed, absurdly pleased to
hear his son speak of him so, even if was second-hand
praise.

Hinojosa nodded his reception of Alejandro's thanks. "I
must admit some curiosity about you, sir. Your military
reputation precedes you, and yet Diego has such a firm
preference for peaceful solutions."

"Yes," Alejandro said. He felt a growing resentment at
finding himself at a disadvantage in discussing his own son
with a near stranger and that loosened his hold on his
bitterness more than he would have liked. "Action is not
Diego's strong suit."

"Ah," Hinojosa said, his expression suddenly holding a
regretful understanding. His stance became slightly,
though significantly, more politely erect. Alejandro had
the feeling he had been judged and found wanting. The sour
resentment at the back of his throat intensified.

"I have a letter for Diego if you would not mind delivering
it," Hinojosa said, reaching into his jacket. "You might
tell him that I found his analysis of the Governor of
California's new tax policies to be . . . startling. I am
not entirely certain I agree with his conclusions, but he
has proven me wrong before. It is not often that I meet
someone who has the courage to think on such a broad scale.
It is reassuring to see that we have not all of us raised
sons who think of nothing but personal glory."

Alejandro took the letter as Hinojosa bowed again, deeply
this time. Alejandro had the feeling that he had been
given a rare honor, and was gracious enough to force his
resentment aside enough to be humbled by it. Hinojosa had
an unparalleled reputation as a governor. There would have
been no need for Zorro if someone of his like was installed
in De Soto's place. He bowed in return and Hinojosa nodded
approvingly.

"If you would allow me to say so, it is easy to see where
Diego learned his sense of honor," Hinojosa said.

Alejandro nodded and Hinojosa faded into the crowd. After
the man departed, Alejandro looked for a long time at the
letter in his hand, suddenly thoughtful.